Everyone dreams. As kids we dreamed of being a fireman, nurse, or a famous rock/pop star. As we age our dreams change to wanting to be successful, happy, or rich. Sometimes we wish for things we know are out of reach, like winning the lottery or for Elvis to be alive, but we still dream.

There are times we dream about sitting with a relative who passed away. Some of us have nightmares about being trapped, underwater, or even worse, back with an ex.

Sometimes our dreams are easy to interpret and make sense, but there are times when they don’t. That’s where I found myself last night.

I woke up at some point during the night, went to the bathroom, and bumped up the heat in the bedroom since it was freezing. Seconds after I climbed back into bed with Tammy things took a strange turn.

Of course I don’t really remember much of what you are about to read, but this is what Tammy said happened last night.

Tammy lifted the blankets off of me twice, looking underneath each time. She then checked Savannah’s butt before lifting the covers off me for a third time, at which point I sat up.

I was still groggy from my sleepy-time meds, which I have written about here and here.

Me: Whaaaa…. What’s wrong?
Tammy: I smell sh!t! It’s so bad…. Gawd… Don’t you smell it?

At this point I lifted my nose up and attempted to smell the offending odor, but my nose was stuffy.

Me: No, I can’t smell anything

Tammy: It smells like someone crapped themselves! I thought you sh!t the bed! The smell woke me up, I even checked Savannah.

Me: I don’t think I farted… I might have, I dreamed that I farted.

Tammy: God, it smelled so bad..it woke me up.

You’d think I’d remember being accused of crapping the bed, but the only thing I remember about that conversation was me trying to smell something and having a stuffy nose. I don’t even remember the dream where I farted.

Who does that? Who has dreams of themselves farting? Of all the things I could have dreamt about (food, unicorns, magic robots) or could have been doing (traveling, winning the lottery, driving a fast car), my brain decided to have me fart in it.

I guess Walt Disney knew what he was talking about.

For the record, after reviewing all of the evidence I have no idea if I was actually guilty of the offending odor. I think I’m being set up by Savannah, who was sleeping on the end of the bed.